


the rose next door

by Magali_Dragon



Series: one shots and other drabbles [21]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Dadvos is here, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Jon and Dany are rather stupid, Like the parent trap but with neighbors, Neighbors, Nosy Neighbors, Olenna is here to make them see the light, Olenna is the dirty grandmother we all wish we had, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25370578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon
Summary: Olenna Tyrell rules the cul-de-sac at the end of Kingsland Street. When sweet lonely Daenerys moves in next door, Olenna recruits a reluctant neighbor Davos to help her set Dany up with kind lonely neighbor Jon Snow.  Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, olenna Tyrell & Davos Seaworth
Series: one shots and other drabbles [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567705
Comments: 133
Kudos: 441





	the rose next door

**Author's Note:**

> I had this for Day 7 of upcoming Jonerys Week but could not wait to post. Then I found out it actually is the great Dame Diana Rigg's birthday, so I HAD to post. Happy birthday you fabulous queen! Still remember her as Lady Holiday in The Great Muppet Caper (lol). 
> 
> Side note, this fic was SO MUCH FUN to write! Olenna is the sassy grandma we want. She doesn’t give a fuck. Davos is the grandpa we all want too. He just wants Dany and Jon happy.
> 
> Many thank yous to youwerenevermine for listening to me bounce ideas for this fic!
> 
> Enjoy the chaos!

* * *

Olenna Redwyne Tyrell never let anything get by her.

She was sharp as a tack, her tits still pointed up which could not be said for majority of women her age, and she ruled the cul-de-sac at the end of Kingsland Street like the queen her grandchildren joked she must have been in a former life. She was defacto leader and had been since she moved into the little gingerbread cottage with its overflowing gardens about ten years ago now. Right after her husband decided to go toes-up after shoveling the driveway when she told him he should wait for their grandson to come over and do it. When people asked her after he died what she thought of his early passing, she only said _“Well he should’ve listened to me, maybe he wouldn’t be dead. Bloody fool.”_

It was, therefore, quite shocking to her, when the house next door sold considerably faster than she anticipated. It went on the market, for an exorbitant asking price, typical of the Lannisters. Cersei Lannister hated the place, always bitched about it, and Olenna hated her. Threw manure from her garden over into the backyard, just to hear Cersei scream and think it was the kids who lived on the other side of the fence in the back. Gave her immense joy. She didn’t think anyone would be willing to plunk down the money or negotiate the cow from whatever she’d been asking. Someone did, Olenna wanted to meet them.

They’d have to sage the shit out of the place though.

She didn’t see anyone visiting it; just saw Tyrion put up the sign saying it was for sale. She gave him shit—he hated his sister too but not nearly as much as he should have. Saw him again when he popped by to put the **SOLD** sticker over top of it. “Who bought that hellmouth?” she asked him.

Tyrion climbed into his Mercedes, shrugging. “Someone from Essos.”

“Hmpf, Essos.” Essosi could be anyone. Olenna didn’t mind the exotic types—there was a beautiful man who used to live down the street and happened to be Dothraki. Strapping muscles, rippling black hair, hung like a horse if his gym shorts were any indication. Olenna wasn’t dead. She hoped whomever this was recognized the rule of law quickly. The housing board overseeing their exorbitant fees was useless, if you wanted anything done and done right, you came to her.

Since she hadn’t been aware of this person, the moment she saw the moving van pull up to the curb, she tugged out her chair and set her tea up on her front porch instead of the back. She shoved on her sunglasses, kicked back, and watched, ignoring Davos Seaworth across the street give her an obvious eyeroll as he watered his begonias. “Too much water on them you salty cur!” she shouted to him.

He shook his head, scoffing. She chuckled; she loved Davos. He’d been around as long as she had. She lifted her teacup up, studying the woman who appeared in a sleek black sportscar, pulling into the driveway of the timber-sided cottage, with its bright red door. The door hadn’t always been red. Painters came by the previous day and did it. Interesting decision, she noted, wondering who this woman was. She climbed from the driver’s side of the car; silver braids scattered throughout her long hair. “Hmm, Valyrian,” she murmured, wondering if the silver hair had a side of purple eyes too.

The movers set about, taking in things, the woman fluttering about. She was very young and tiny. Curvy, smiling, and she was alone. No sign of a man or kids. She carted in a carrier earlier, which was spitting mad, Olenna could hear the howls from her porch. The cat clearly did not care to be confined. “Cat lady,” she noted, tsking. It was a shame, she was so young, and yet it did not seem like she had any family or friends. Only one person dropped by later that afternoon, a young dark-skinned woman with a wrist of bangles, bearing a fern in her hands and wearing fancy yoga attire before she got back into her electric car and drove off, leaving the silver lady alone.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught her other neighbor, coming out to walk his dog. She pursed her lips, narrowing her gaze on him. _Jon Snow._ Also a young one. Lonely, she never saw a woman at his house. He wasn’t a sword swallower though; her grandson Loras had flirted with him plenty of times and aside from being almost too polite with her insipid grandson, he had not given any indication he reciprocated Loras’s persuasion. He also didn’t let Margaery sway him, which Olenna gave him props for. Her granddaughter was a manipulative little thing.

She finally took it upon herself to figure this newcomer out. She got to her feet, going into her garden and gathered up a basket of lemons from the tree that sat right at the edge of the property, which also happened to hang over into the young woman’s new backyard. The lemons were ripe, bright yellow, and the perfect welcoming gift. Also the perfect opportunity to welcome her to the neighborhood, get the intel she needed, and let her know who was in charge.

Olenna strode over, popped up onto the doorstep and rapped her knuckles sharply on the red door. She peered around to one of the windows, the curtains not yet hung. It didn’t matter, she hardly got a look before it swung back, revealing the little woman who had just moved in. “Hello!” she exclaimed, rather bright, and sure enough, her eyes were purple to go with the silver hair.

The Queen of Thorns chuckled, offered the basket. “Welcome to the neighborhood! I wanted to introduce myself, I am your next-door neighbor Olenna Tyrell.”

“How lovely!” The woman had a soft accent, one Olenna couldn’t quite place. She beckoned her inside from the stoop, taking the basket from her, awed. Her cheeks flushed pink and she wore a white tank with a pair of yoga capris, her feet were bare. Olenna noted that she had a trim little body, was only briefly jealous. “Thank you so much, my name is Daenerys Targaryen. You can call me Dany; I know it’s a bit of a mouthful.”

She smiled, sweeping her hawkish gaze through the house. Boxes stacked, each one labeled neatly, and a massive black shaggy fur cat lurking around the edges, still yowling. “Well I am pleased to see just how young and pretty you are,” she said, smiling. She crossed her arms over her chest, chuckling. Dany’s eyes widened, surprised. “The last woman who lived here was a horrible wench. Had a son who used to sneak into my gardens, crawled over the fence once and damn near choked to death on my plums. Mother accused me of poisoning him, can you imagine?”

Dany laughed, but it didn’t quite match the nervousness in her eyes. “Was he okay?”

Olenna waved her hand, unconcerned. “Joffrey was a little shit who deserved it.” She pointed to the lemons in the basket. “Those are from my tree, most of it hangs over into your yard, you’re welcome to take whatever falls. In fact, I might have a couple seedlings I can pot, bring over for you.” She watched the reaction on the woman’s face. In Olenna’s opinion, how people treated other living things—including plants and flowers—told her all she needed to know.

The response she received satisfied her. Dany grinned, those shiny white teeth filling her face. “Oh that’s wonderful, thank you! The lemon tree was actually part of why I purchased the house. I used to have one in my yard growing up, I always wanted one.” She looked around the house, pleased with herself, nodding slightly. She spoke, this time to herself it seemed. “I finally have my house. My first real house.”

She smirked. _This one would do just fine._ “Tell me dear, how old are you? Can’t believe I was your age when I lived on my own for the first time. I did go from my father’s house to the sorority house to my husband’s house. He had to keel over in the drive during the first snow before I could live on my own. Probably should have tried it earlier.”

The woman smiled, setting the lemons down and walking towards the front door with her, stepping onto the stoop. She looked back at the house again, beaming. “I’m twenty-four, but my brother passed about a year ago. My inheritance finally went through the courts. I used some of it to get this house.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze torn away by something behind Olenna.

Olenna had a pretty good idea what the something might be. Or the someone. She turned, looking over her shoulder and sure enough, there was Jon Snow, coming out of his garage, his t-shirt sweaty and dark curly hair—bit too long for Olenna’s tastes—pulled back from his face. A comely face, pale and thin, with a dark beard scrubbing on his jaw. He was too short for her too, but she did like the look of him. A look he showed them both then, pulling the bottom of his t-shirt up to wipe his sweaty face, revealing his rippling washboard stomach, workout shorts hanging low on his hips.

She side-eyed the young woman, who’d tugged her bottom lip under her teeth. She snorted. “Well you moved in because the house has a lemon tree, I moved in because of that.” It was a joke; Jon Snow had only been around about a year. She had yet to find out what this young woman did for a living, but Jon Snow worked in security, secret stuff she thought, maybe even for the Westerosi Bureau of Intelligence, but he kept to himself. Davos was the only one who knew him well enough, she supposed.

Dany stifled a cough, her pale face turning pink. “Well um, he’s…he’s young.”

“Matter of fact, I think he’s about twenty-four or twenty-five.” She narrowed her gaze on the woman. “You’re not married?”

Dany shook her head. She whispered, dropping her pretty eyes to the ground. Sadness seeped from her, whether she knew it or not. “No, just me,” she said, quietly.

“Shame. Body like that should not be wasted. Should be enjoyed.” She patted the woman’s surprised face with her palm, waving her fingers at her as she turned. “Enjoy those lemons my dear. Use them to make lemonade.” She sauntered off, hearing Dany’s soft “nice to meet you too” on her way down the little path to the front gate and to the sidewalk, approaching her yard now.

Olenna barely made it to the path up to her porch when Davos cut her off, leaning on the gate, arms crossed. He was an old sailor, retired now and involved in all kinds of things Olenna didn’t understand. He was the only one on the block who didn’t necessarily put up with her shit, which was the only reason Olenna liked him. His wife was nice, but he had too many sons. None of which came around often. “What are you doing Tyrell?” he demanded, his accent thick. From Fleabottom, she could hardly understand him, and made a joke out of trying to hear him.

She pressed her hand to her ear, cupping it to him. “Huh, what’d you say?”

“Cut the bullshit, what are you doing with that young lass? She just moved in, give her time before you scare her off like you have all the others.”

“Cersei left because her ex-husband stopped paying her mortgage.”

“And you threatened to poison her son.”

She dismissed him, snorting. “Lies.”

“What about the one before Cersei?”

“That doddery fool? Called himself the High Sparrow and prayed loudly to the Seven every bloody night.”

“He says you cursed him.”

“Losing his marbles,” she sang. She walked up her path, taking a seat at her tea table. She crossed her legs, leaning into her chair and folded her hands in her lap, smiling up at Davos. He leaned against the porch frame. “And the one before that decided they were better off living in Pentos.”

Davos pushed his frameless glasses up on his nose, dropping his hand to rub at his salty beard. He backed away from her and pointed, warning. “You’re planning something.”

“Tell me Davos, that Jon Snow, isn’t he about twenty-five or so?”

That did it. He whirled around, mouth falling slightly. He snapped it shut. “Leave Jon Snow alone,” he warned.

“I leave him alone well enough.”

“He’s only polite to you because he’s a polite young lad and doesn’t know any better. Not like how I do.”

She arched her brow, pushing back from her chair, the wicker giving a loud creak. “I’m not planning anything,” she said, effectively sending him off. Davos muttered something like “Old bat” under his breath, walking back across the street to his house. She closed the door behind her and smirked, a plan forming.

Because it was such a shame two young good-looking people were so alone. And in the right place at the right time.

And Olenna was bored. Flowers only kept her so busy.

~/~/~/~

“Hmm…”

The fence that separated her yard from Jon Snow’s was not very tall, built of straight pointed slats of ashy-gray wood. The fence was rather old, worn and in some places eaten through by bugs or weathered from the storms that came off the Blackwater. There were occasional divots along the bottom from where his wolf—she refused to call that thing a dog—had dug around looking for animals. Olenna didn’t mind, so long as he didn’t touch her flowers, which thankfully the well-trained beast did not.

She had been watering her roses; giant multi-colored bushes, but she was most proud of her blue winter roses, which she’d taken from Winterfell. They were a hit with her quiet neighbor, who hailed from the ancient Northern city. He always commented on them, said they reminded him of his mother. Poor thing had no parents, she’d confirmed after that comment. It was a similarity he shared with her _other_ neighbor. Daenerys told her that her parents had died when she was very young, raised by her brother, and he’d passed recently too. They were both alone in the world, terrible thing.

Olenna decided that had to change. She had been watering those roses, thinking of how she might go about it; it had been a few weeks since Dany moved next door. The new neighbors hadn’t had a chance to interact, but she knew they passed each other on the road—both were avid runners. They both worked in the city, left at about the same time every morning, and had little by way of visitors. Daenerys was very involved in taking care of her new home, while Jon Snow could often be seen tinkering in his garage with a motorcycle or carpentry.

The other thing Jon Snow liked to do was workout on the home gym he’d set up in his back patio. Olenna liked to watch him. She set down her hose, going over to sneak a peek, and there he was, doing pull-ups on the silver bar mounted on the wall, bunches of muscle in his arms, back and fine arse flexing and rippling with every lift. She dropped her sunglasses to the bottom of her nose to get a better look, shaking her head slightly. “Such a waste,” she complained, as he had no one to share that body with.

“Will you stop spying on that poor lad?”

She whipped her head sideways, her sleek white bob smacking at her chin. She scoffed at the presence of Davos, who’d clearly invited himself into her yard, the gate open. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Aye, it’s me. Leave him alone.”

“Well he shouldn’t be so obvious then.” She snorted, taking another look. Jon had moved on to sit-ups now. She tutted under her breath. “I may be old, but I’m not dead.”

Davos rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest, his old worn Westerosi Navy t-shirt pulling at his shoulders. He shook his head, still annoyed. “You’re awful.”

“What do you want?” she demanded. She pushed away from the fence line, returning to her rose bushes and picking up the hose, beginning to spray them down again. She pushed her free hand into the small of her back. “Did you find out anything else about our fair Mr. Snow? Anything that might help?”

“I am not involved in this.”

“We are the leaders of this street; we need to ensure everyone is happy.”

“They are happy.”

“Show’s what you know.” They most certainly were not happy. Lonely, young, and beautiful. It had the trappings of a romance novel or a movie-of-the-week. The more Olenna wheedled out of her new neighbor, the more she wanted to find her someone to share what she clearly enjoyed: fine food, culture, and what was a desperate longing for some companionship. It was such a shame Daenerys hadn’t found it yet. The Dothraki boor from down the street had tried, running in front of her house and preening, but she paid him no attention. It was the quiet Northerner that pulled her attention from her yardwork, reading in the little nook she’d set up between some trees in her front yard, or her garage organizing.

Davos sighed, shoulders slumping. He let his arms fall to his side. “Alright, I’ll give it to you. The lass has a bit of sadness about her, but Jon…”

“You see those scars on his chest, you know he went through something.”

“Aye, he did,” Davos nodded, scratching his beard now. His blue eyes twinkled, which Olenna suspected meant he was seeing the light. He seemed to think on it a moment, before shuttering the thoughts away, frowning and pointing at her. “Leave Jon alone.”

She rolled her eyes, turning the hose to spritz at his feet, forcing him to curse and jump back. “What do you want even other than to yell at me for just admiring what the gods have given us?”

“Your tree-trimmer. Got a few branches hanging over the back windows and Marya is worried next storm they’ll come straight through. Figured I’d get a move on it before she’s yelling at me next.”

Olenna set the hose down, marching to her shed, where she kept a variety of gardening equipment of varying expense. She found the trimmer, passing it over to him. She did not let go of it; fingers curled around the pole while Davos tried to tug it from her. He glared, waiting. She smiled sweetly. “I need your help.”

“Seven hells.”

“You know Jon well.” She pointed to Dany’s house, where she could see the little woman on her back patio, sipping a cup of tea and studying something on her laptop. “And I’m getting to know her as well as I think anyone can.”

“Olenna…”

She ignored him. “We’re leaders on this block…”

“No we’re not.”

“It’s time we take charge,” she continued.

“I’m not doing a damned thing.”

“Yes you are.” She nodded to Jon, who had come out of his house and was filling up a kiddie pool, his great white beast dancing around his ankles, clearly excited about whatever would be happening with the pool. It was rather hot that morning. “He needs a girl. Haven’t seen one about since that redhead stormed out, what six or seven months ago?”

“I think that was a year ago.” Davos sighed, shaking his head and frowning now. “She was no good for him. He seemed happier after she left.”

“Precisely my point.”

“He’s just quiet, he’s a good lad.”

“And so’s she. Except she hasn’t made a damn move on him despite seeing him every morning, smiling at him as he runs by and I think he sees her too. I catch him looking over when she’s fussing with her fence or trying to clean the gutters.”

Davos scrubbed his beard again, thinking out loud, eyes darting to Jon. “He is a little slow with women I think.” He shook his head, hands going up. “Nope, I’m not doing it. Keep the damn tree trimmer.”

“Shame, I’ll mention to Marya that the branches look a little long.”

He froze, halfway out the shed. He sneered. “You wouldn’t.”

Olenna smiled, sweet. “I wouldn’t, would I?”

“And what pray tell, do you even have in mind? That I will not help you with,” he was quick to add.

“You’ll help me.”

“How?”

“I have a way of these things, it’s called charisma.” Olenna pushed the tree trimmer at his chest, walking out of the shed. She called over her shoulder. “We’ll be in touch.”

She was old sure, but her hearing impeccable, when she heard him mutter under his breath: “Charisma? More like blackmail.”

She chuckled, beginning to hum to herself as she picked up the hose to begin watering her vegetable garden, listening to the wolf next door splash in his kiddie pool, while Jon laughed at whatever antics that beast got up to, and the soft sounds of classical music coming from the porch on the opposite side. She begin to form a plan.

~/~/~/~

“I cannot believe I am doing this.”

The wolf peered up at him as though he were insane, which he must have been, to go along with this hare-brained scheme of Tyrell’s. He closed his eyes briefly and reached into his pocket, removing the couple slices of bacon he’d snatched from the plate Marya had made that morning. He wiggled them out and Ghost licked his chops, hurrying towards him. He gave him a strange look, his red eyes curious. Davos nodded, aware at how odd this entire thing happened to be. Thank gods the wolf knew him, was not threatened at all, and followed him from the backyard around the front.

He fed him a slice of bacon, the wolf trotting beside him. “There’s a good lad, come along now.” He looked over his shoulder at Jon’s house, but no one stirred, poked their head out a window or stepped onto the front stoop to scream at him and wonder why he was _dog-napping._

Yes, Olenna Tyrell had somehow gotten him to dognap from Jon Snow, but for good reasons, she said. It wasn’t like he was going to make a fur coat out of him or something. _“This isn’t a cartoon with an evil cackling witch,” she said, laughing. “Cersei Lannister moved away, after all.”_

Ghost peered up at him and looked to the front window, hearing a rapping at it. They were crossing Olenna’s front yard. She waved at them both, grinning and gave him a thumbs-up. Davos considered replying with a rude hand gesture. He muttered under his breath. “I am insane. I should go to the loony-bin.”

Ghost’s look seemed to Davos that he agreed whole-heartedly.

He moved around the fence separating Olenna from sweet Dany’s house. He’d spoken with her on several different occasions. She had even stopped by his home to offer some fresh-baked cookies, to thank him for letting her borrow his lawn-mower while hers had been broken. _“Oddest thing,” she complained. “It was like it was out of gas; but I just filled it.”_ He suspected Tyrell was behind it, maybe hoping she’d go to Jon Snow instead of him. He’d told so to Tyrell; she’d been furious, thereby confirming his suspicions.

They were very nice young people, but Davos thought they were a little hard-headed. He wasn’t even sure they had formally met, and she had now been in the neighborhood almost three months. Olenna was desperate if now she thought getting the dog involved would change things. He led Ghost into Dany’s yard and up to her doorstep, dropping a final piece of bacon there. He looked at him, sitting perfectly still on the mat that said _Welcome! Did you bring wine?_

He grumbled to himself. “No wine I’m afraid lass, just your neighbor’s dog.” Or wolf, or whatever mixture of the two he happened to be. Jon got a little vague on the subject. Davos was sure the homeowner’s association did not allow wolves in the neighborhood. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and knocked on the door.

Once he’d done so, he took off, glad he was rather fast for his age, and hurtled over the short fence to pop up onto Olenna’s porch. He stood there, pretending as though he were waiting for her, which he was. She opened her door, yanking him in just in time, as Davos peered out the side window where Olenna dragged him, seeing Dany step onto her stoop, surprised to see Ghost sitting there.

The window was cracked open so they could hear. “Oh!” she exclaimed, staring down at him. Ghost looked as amused as she was. “What are you doing here?” Ghost glared at them.

“He’s going to give us away,” Olenna muttered.

Ghost didn’t give them up, but wagged his tail and turned from Dany, trotted to the little gate. Dany chuckled, going after him. She was wearing a little sundress and flip-flops, her silver hair pulled back from her face with two little braids and left to hang almost to her waist. She looked at his collar, confirming his address. “I thought you belonged to him; I’ve seen you in the morning. How’d you get over here?”

“Not very bright, is she?”

“Shush!” he hissed, nudging Olenna.

Davos chastised himself for being so involved in this. He was furious as he went with her to the front door and poked their heads out, watching Dany walk Ghost down the sidewalk and up Jon’s driveway towards his door. She knocked on it and waited. The door swung open and Jon leaned out, mouth dropping in surprise.

“Ghost!”

Olenna rolled her eyes, watching the wolf go inside without a sound, leaving Jon to stare after him and Dany laughing in the animal’s wake. “Gods they are thick. This shouldn’t be so difficult.”

“Well at least they’re talking.”

They both stepped onto the porch, looking over, as nonchalant as possible. Davos stepped off the porch and Olenna went inside for something. He waved over at them, trying to act casual. “Hello there! I see you two now have officially met. Been a few weeks.”

“Dany was just returning Ghost; it seems he got out.” Jon looked into the house, frowning after wherever the dog had gone. “Weird. He’s pretty good about sticking close to home.”

“He’s a very sweet dog,” Dany said.

Jon smiled politely. “That he is. Thank you for returning him.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Davos cleared his throat; they were almost too polite with each other. He liked Jon Snow, liked him a lot, and couldn’t believe he’d begun to buy into Olenna’s hare-brained scheme that somehow, he was destined for the pretty lady with silver hair on the opposite side of her. The thing with Jon, he’d discovered over the last year of getting to know the lad, was that he was a little slow on the uptake when it came to matters of…romance. Every single female on the blood street stared after him; Jon was oblivious. Seemed it worked in reverse too, he thought with a frown at the lad, who did not seem to realize that Daenerys was probably the most beautiful woman to set foot on the damn cul-de-sac. Save of course his Marya. He nodded to them both. “Jon used to be the new kid on the block, now it seems you are Miss Dany.”

“When did you move in again?”

 _Seven bloody hells man, are you that daft?_ Davos marveled, eyes widening at Jon Snow’s somewhat dopey smile. Dany grinned at him, purple eyes sparkling. “About three months ago.”

Jon was about to say something, when all three of them whipped their heads around to Olenna’s house, hearing her loudly calling “Yoo-hoo!”

Davos hung his head, reaching to press his fingers to his temple. He had a headache. “Olenna,” he mumbled.

She danced over to them, holding up a pie plate aloft, with mounds of perfectly spun meringue. Her green eyes were downright diabolical. “Oh I’m so glad you two have finally met, perhaps you can help me with this. I made too many lemon meringues, it’s my famous recipe, won awards and all that, anyway, my granddaughter was going to pop by and pick it up, but she’s been waylaid at work.” She thrust the pie plate at Jon, who took it quickly, so it didn’t fall. She grinned, looking from him to Dany. “Perhaps you both might like to split it? Half of my perfectly lovely pie for each of my perfectly lovely neighbors.”

His eyebrows lifted to his hairline, his moustache twitching over his upper lip. He hoped he was not smiling. Or gaping like a bloody fool. Ghost appeared in the doorway, likely smelling the pie. He looked at his owner and then to Daenerys, who seemed to be searching for the best thing to say to Olenna’s pushiness. He frowned, now trying not to chuckle, as the great white animal nudged at Jon’s knees, knocking him sideways into Dany.

One of Jon’s arms flew out to catch his balance and also to grab for Dany, before she toppled off the stoop into the bushes on the other side. “Careful there!” Olenna exclaimed, although she did not seem apologetic at all. She barely looked at the wolf, still nodding to her pie. “Come along then you two, I’ll cut it in half for you. I presume even as a bachelor; you at least possess a knife and plate?”

Jon did not say anything, stunned as Olenna barged into his house with the pie. He looked at his empty hand and then to Dany, who had her hand lightly touching his arm still around her and her other on his chest. They both dropped their limbs quickly to their sides, chuckling nervously. “Um…she’s very…” Daenerys trailed off, a polite word for Olenna escaping her.

“Pushy?”

“I was going to say nosy,” she laughed.

“That too. Um…I guess you want to come in for the pie she’s cutting for us both?” They shared another awkward laugh, this time aided by Ghost, who pushed his nose under Dany’s hand, demanding pets as she walked into the house, following Jon.

Davos stood in place, unable to believe what he’d just witnessed. He blinked a few times, took off his glasses, and turned away, retreating to his house. He went up his driveway, looking back at Jon Snow’s little cottage and shook his head again, disbelieving. His wife was putting up some extra groceries in the little pantry they kept in the back of the garage, frowning at him. “Are you alright Davos?”

“Fine…I think.”

“What on earth is Olenna Tyrell doing to that poor boy across the street? I saw her with the new girl. Poor dears, they’re so polite, dealing with her.” Marya shook her head, tsking. She patted his arm, going back into the house, and called over her shoulder. “What do you think?”

He could only shake his head, muttering under his breath. “I think she’s a bloody genius or bloody insane.”

Or maybe both.

~/~/~/~

"Alright Drogon, _Muna_ will be right back, need to go water these new plants Miss Olenna gave us."

Dany knew her friends thought her odd, speaking to her cat like he was a human, but they didn't know him the way she did. He was essentially her child, and he yowled, annoyed that she would not be sitting with him in the pretty office/study she'd created for herself in the enclosed sunroom off the back of the house. It was his favorite place, sun coming in at all hours of the day, and he could watch the birds attack the feeder she had placed out-- plus the bees and other insects attracted to the massive garden her neighbor had in her backyard.

Olenna was very nice, from the moment she marched over and introduced herself the first day Dany arrived at the house. Dany got the impression she was annoyed she hadn't met her beforehand. She'd never had long-term neighbors; Missandei joked she would become a card-carrying member of the HOA soon enough. Dany said if that's what she ended up being, fine by her, she was glad to have roots planted and feet firmly on the ground.

She exited the house, letting Drogon out after her. He stuck close by, although the constant presence of the fluffy white...animal from two doors down had caused him to stick even closer to the door, just in case he got funny ideas. Dany loved that dog, although Davos across the street claimed he was probably not all dog, just don't tell anyone. _Ghost_ , she thought with a little smile, darting her gaze across the low fence separating her property from Olenna's. The fence between Olenna and Mr. Snow... _Jon_ , was higher and she couldn't quite see into his yard, but she sometimes heard the yipping of the dog and splashing—Olenna claimed he had a kiddie pool the dog played in.

 _"Perhaps you would like to play in it too?_ " Olenna wondered. Dany wasn't sure if she was kidding or not. Olenna had winked, rather obviously, looking at their handsome neighbor, and then went off to prune her rose bushes.

Dany looked up when she heard the door open beside her and waved, seeing Olenna striding out towards one of her many patches of garden; her entire yard was filled with vegetable boxes, fruit trees, dozens of rose bushes in a variety of colors, an arbor with pretty vines and blooms, and exotic flowers Dany had only seen in Essos, but which somehow thrived under the _Queen of Thorns_ care.

That's what Davos called her; the older man was very kind. It was in his eyes, the soft burr of his accent. He was from Fleabottom, she'd picked it out immediately, very familiar with the area from her work with the foster kids that came from the economically depressed area of the capital. His wife had supplied her with several lovely food dishes her first couple weeks, until she could get unpacked and settled. Davos helped her out with her curiously always broken lawn mower— it came with the house; she probably should buy a new one.

It had been about six months since she moved in and she felt like she had a real home. The home she always wanted, with the red door— painted before she even moved in—and a lemon tree. Olenna had supplied her with a seedling, which she dutifully watered. She invested in a sprinkler system, per the older woman's suggestion, to ensure her budding roses and the other assorted flowers her garden-obsessed neighbor thrust upon her.

Olenna waved, upon seeing her. Dany smiled, waving back, and went to the faucet, her toes curling into the warm grass. It was still blazing hot in the Crownlands, probably would be until the end of the year and then maybe they would get a mild winter. She briefly wondered how sweet Ghost the wolf-dog handled it, he probably liked snow.

"Funny," she mumbled to herself, thinking of the animal. His owner's last name was _Snow_. He was from the North, he'd told her, during one of their little talks, occasionally running into each other as they did laps in the morning, or when she sometimes got his mail and had to return it. He got a lot of her mail too, which was odd. Perhaps their postman was confused.

Dany went over to the faucet, turning the knob, when suddenly the water spurt up from the sprinklers, but at a considerable velocity, the spray hitting her straight in the face, stinging. "Ah!" she screamed, slipping backwards. She panicked, water attacking from all angles.

Drogon hissed, screeching, and shot off like a black bullet for the house. Olenna cried out from her yard, almost amused. "Oh my! Quick, turn off the main valve!"

"Where is it?" she sputtered. She could hardly see, water was blurring her vision, soaking straight through her white tank and her ratty jean shorts. It was _freezing_!

"Use the pole over there! Against the house!"

She slid on the grass, tripping and grabbing hold of the thin silver pole she remembered was to turn off the main valve from the house to the sprinklers, but it was wet, and she could barely get it to turn when she managed to shove it into the spot. "Seven hells!!" she yelped, dropping it.

If it were possible, the water was coming even _harder_ now! She heard Olenna shouting and rushing around the side of her house. Dany yelped again, briefly hoping that her new lemon tree wasn't ruined with the attack of water hitting it. She heard a loud hiss and pop, staring wide-eyed at a massive geyser that popped up in the middle of her yard, one of the sprinkler heads succumbing to the pressure.

A major puddle—more like a pond—formed in the center and around her feet, squishing beneath them. She looked over at the sight of someone coming to her aid, laughing as Jon Snow appeared. "I got it," he laughed, taking the pole from her slippery fingers.

"I think it's broken."

"Just needs a good hard thrust," Olenna yelled.

Dany stumbled backwards, watching Jon—he must have been doing yardwork—his ratty Westerosi Army t-shirt stained with grass and his gym shorts stuck with bits of weeds. He had his dark hair pulled back from his face in a messy bun at the nape of his neck, but it didn't seem to matter, because by the time he'd twisted the pole in the valve, the water had drenched him as much as her.

They both laughed when he'd finished, setting the pole now. "Thank you," she said, relieved that she could finally see, wiping water out of her eyes. "Appreciate it."

Olenna called over again, grinning. "Sometimes you need a man who knows where to stick it!"

She felt warmth creep up the back of her neck; did she know what that sounded like? She looked at Jon, who was wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt, revealing his flat stomach, the muscles in his arms flexing as he then twisted it, ringing water out. She nibbled her bottom lip; she wasn't dead. He was a very good-looking man. Drops of water trickled along the washboard abs and she could see a faint line of dark hair leading from his navel down beneath his low-slung shorts. There was a thick line of muscle on either side of his hips, forming a ridge of 'v.' She always wondered how men got that.

"Oh dear Daenerys, your shirt is wet."

"What?" she stuttered, catching herself, blinking hard. She looked down at her shirt, yelping. Mortified, she folded her arms over her breasts, which were practically visible beneath the thin white material. _Oh gods!_ She flushed, trying not to look at Jon, who was politely looking away, his face also reddening. , even under his beard. She muttered under her breath. "I’m sorry, guess it just got stuck."

"It's all in the wrist," Olenna supplied. The old lady was now leaning over the fence line, amused. She quirked her lip up, glancing at Jon. "Just a nice twist at the base and then up to the tip, right?"

Jon's mouth opened and closed a few times and he cleared his throat—loudly. "Um, I think you should probably get them to come look at it before you try again," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

She nodded quickly, still keeping her arms over her chest. She was trying not to look at the way his t-shirt clung to him now. Hoping he was not doing the same to her. _Gods_ , she thought, looking over at Olenna, trying to smile, to step away from her and get back into the house. "I will, thanks."

Olenna cocked her head, her stylish white-blonde bob swinging at her chin, green eyes innocent, like a doe. "Daenerys my dear, you must be so wet. You should go take care of it."

She bit her bottom lip hard, stepping backwards, just in time to slip in the mud that had formed behind her, bare feet moving straight tout under her. Jon grabbed her under her ribs, hauling her back up. She leaned against him, peering up at his face. _He smells nice._ She swallowed hard. "Thanks," she whispered. She looked at her hand, realizing it was clenching into his pec, which twitched under her. She stepped back quickly, trying not to focus on the hard body holding her up.

Jon realized then his hands were almost covering her breasts and he let go, wiping his hands on his wet shorts. "I'll see you around." He nodded to Olenna and smiled quickly at her. "Next time you want a shower, maybe inside, aye?"

She laughed. "Aye," she mimicked.

Olenna piped up, shouting after Jon. "Perhaps with company next time!" Dany gaped after her. Olenna's eyes twinkled, her lips pursing. She waited a beat and stepped away from the fence, tapping the top of it with her knuckles. "Oh my dear, should go in and dry off Daenerys, although maybe another shower would be appropriate." She chuckled, moving off towards her roses, humming.

Dany wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to that. She sputtered, cheeks flaming in embarrassment, and went back up to her house, but not before looking over and seeing Jon Snow stop mowing his lawn, giving up and retreating into his house. But not without a look towards hers.

The door slammed behind her, going back into the house. Perhaps Olenna was right.

A cold shower was absolutely necessary.

~/~/~/~

"Bloody seven hells!"

With the ignition fuse of Jon's Jeep now sitting in his pocket, Davos only felt partially guilty for the young man's current predicament. He did not know why or how he was still involved in this absolutely insane plan of Olenna Tyrell's, but here he was, pretending to be interested in his garbage cans, eyes darting across the street to watch Jon Snow fumble with his car. He winced when Jon cursed again.

He called out. "Having some trouble?"

"Car won't bloody start."

"Perhaps it's the battery?" He wondered how long it would take Jon to realize the fuse was missing. Not many people suspected that at first go, especially for a relatively new vehicle. He glanced over at Dany's house, seeing her walk out, holding her coffee tumbler in one hand and her keys in the other. She was dressed rather nicely, in a sharp red skirt and black jacket, her height barely elevated even with sky-high heels. "Good morning Daenerys!"

Dany glanced over, waving. "Good morning."

"Say, you work downtown, right?" He ran his tongue over his teeth. This was so fake; he couldn't believe these two didn't see right through. He nodded to Jon. "Jon's car doesn't seem to want to start this morning."

"Bit sleepy is it?"

"I guess," Jon grumbled. He was not a morning person, Davos had discovered. He grabbed his beat-up leather messenger bag from the driver's side, taking his phone from one of the pockets. "I’ll have to order a Hrazef."

The ride-share app, damnit, he'd forgotten that. Thankfully, Dany got there before he did. "I can take you," she offered.

Jon looked up from the phone, tossing a stray curl from his eye. Davos shook his head slightly; at least they were making this easy on him. He smiled briefly. "You'd do that?"

"You work by the Red Keep? In the Ministry of Justice building, right?"

"Aye."

 _Well they've gotten far enough to know where the other works. Only took them half a year._ He was sure Olenna was going to have a coronary, all her hard work and these two just dragging their feet. He glanced from one to the other, seeing their little smiles. He tried not to chuckle, shoving his hands into his pocket. His fingers closed over the fuse tightly, feeling the little prongs dig into his palm. _All for a good cause, look how happy the lad is_ , he told his guilty conscience.

Indeed, Jon was still smiling a little. He put his phone away and closed the car door, shooting it a dark glance. "I guess I'll figure what's wrong with it later. I have a morning meeting. Can't be late."

Davos shot a look to Dany, who grinned. "Hop in." She reached into her bag, to check something, mumbling under her breath. "I forgot my phone, be right back." She left everything on the roof of her little black sportscar, hurrying up to the front door.

While Jon wandered down his driveway to make his way towards hers, Davos took a few steps off his property into the street, hands shoved in his pockets. "She's a nice young woman," he said, studying Jon's face.

The young man nodded, eyes still on the door where Dany disappeared. "Yeah, she's really nice. Ghost likes her."

"I know, seems he's getting out a lot."

"It's weird, the gate is latched and everything, but he goes over, hangs with her and then comes back. Sometimes she brings him back too." He thought for a moment, shrugging. "At least he isn't heading down the street to that Bolton house." Davos nodded, murmuring to himself. Jon squinted slightly. "You alright? You seem guilty or something."

"Ah..." He fisted the fuse a little tighter. He shrugged, chuckling. "Don't know why." He cleared his throat, frowning and nodding again to Dany's house. "She's been here almost a year."

"About six months or so."

"Seems lonely." He was pushing a little hard, hoping he didn't frighten Jon off.

Jon nodded idly, looking away. He shifted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, gazing at her house again. He looked to Olenna's front window, brow briefly flickering to a frown, before smoothing again. Davos wondered if he'd seen the same thing, the curtains shifting a bit too quickly. He grit his teeth; of course she'd be watching. "Yeah, she's never had a house before. I've had to help her a few times with her lawn mower."

"Oh yeah? Can I help at all with it?"

He shook his head, scrubbing at his hair. "No, it's the damndest thing. Seems like the oil or the fuel is always empty, she says she's filling it."

Davos shot a dark look to Olenna's front window again. The curtains flickered once more. "Hmm, odd."

"Yeah. She helped me out though a couple weeks ago, speaks a ton of languages."

"No kidding?"

He nodded eagerly, gray eyes lighting up. "Aye, lots of them. Olenna told me, I needed something translated for my sister. She's in Braavos and I thought it would be fun for her birthday to send her a card all in Braavosi. Dany helped me a bunch with it."

"How nice." Davos was beginning to wonder if they no longer needed to be interfering so much. Until Jon spoke again, deflating his hopes.

"I don't know why she helped. She didn't need to."

 _Oh lad, you've got it bad, but you really know nothing_ , he thought, shaking his head in disbelief. Davos saw it, clear as day, and yet these two were really thick. He hadn't seen the lad smile as much as he had in the few minutes waiting for Dany to come back out of her house. He was about to say something, to just end this farce, when her front door opened and she rushed out, apologizing.

"So sorry! Drogon knocked it over and I had to get on my hands and knees to search for it under the table. Okay, let's go!" Dany swung the door open and pushed her things into the miniscule backseat. She popped back up, bright violet eyes shining in the early morning sun. "Oh and I do hope you don't mind if we stop off at Seasnake's, I have to get another dose of caffeine before I hit the office."

"No problem, you're driving."

"Also, hope you don't mind this, but I listen to the podcast Renly and the Rainbow Guard..."

"Me too!"

"Really?!"

Davos's mouth fell open slightly. He was long forgotten now, both of them chattering about the news podcast they apparently both seemed to enjoy. He had no idea Jon even knew what a podcast was. His few times being in the lad's house he hadn't even noted a television. Just walls of books. He stood in place, watching her back out of the driveway and speed off. He waited another moment and looked to Olenna's house.

The old bat was waving at him from the window, curtains pulled away. She winked and let them fall back in place. He shook his head. He couldn't believe it. The insanity might actually be working. Gods help them all. Olenna would be a nightmare. He sighed and hurried away, to replace the fuse and hope Jon didn't notice anything amiss.

Unlikely that would be an issue, given how little Jon seemed to notice, with such a beautiful woman right in front of him and for some reason he hadn't made a move yet. Davos slammed the hood of the car down, glancing to Olenna's house again, shaking his head, and wondering what else she had up her sleeve.

~/~/~/~

Jon collected the pile of mail sitting on the table beside his front door, shoving his feet into boots. He glanced at Ghost, who was destroying an 'extreme chewer' toy that did not seem to hold up to its promised potential. "I'll be right back, going over to Dany's." His wolf peeked up briefly before returning to his destruction.

He rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him, glancing at the few bills. It seemed really odd that he kept getting her mail. Had been going on now a few months, he had mind to tell the post office, kept forgetting. He walked up the little stone path to her front door, noting that she had done a lot of landscaping. He'd been helping her with it, some of the rocks she wanted for a wall were extremely heavy-- he'd grabbed one just in time before it hit her foot a few weeks ago.

The bell gonged in her house, forcing his lips to a smile. Most people had doorbells; she had a gong. The door swung back, revealing her, a little disheveled, hair sticking out of her many braids and pale cheeks flushed pink. "Hello!" she exclaimed. "What a surprise!"

He chewed his bottom lip nervously. Normally he didn't get bothered so easy, but there was something about her that made him blunter and brasher than he normally was. Also a little dumb. "Hi, I just got some more of your mail again."

"Well I think I'm going to say something, I've got a couple of yours too. Come on in."

"I hope I'm not interrupting?"

She waved her had dismissively. "No, I was just trying to trim Drogon's nails, it's always a fight. Right my little dragon?"

The massive cat, which could probably give Ghost a run for his money, hissed from high atop the cabinets, golden eyes barely opened to slits. Jon chuckled. "He seems pissed."

"He'll get over it." She passed him a couple of envelopes, which he shoved into his back pocket. She scanned hers and tossed them into an ornate bowl at the end of the counter. Her kitchen reminded him of her; very bright and warm. Her house was a hodge-podge of fabric, colors, textures, and knickknacks. His sister joked that his was a museum. Dany grinned at him and moved towards a large basket full of fruit and vegetables. "Olenna gave me a ton of these vegetables, more than I think I can eat. Would you like some?"

He thought that was nice of Olenna; she'd been overindulging him on the foodstuffs too lately. He nodded, finding his feet were a little heavy, not taking him back to the front door just yet. "Sure."

Dany split up the produce, placing it in a canvas bag with the name of a grocery store from Essos stamped on it. He had to remember to bring it back to her. She passed it to him, and he took it, fingers brushing hers. Her cheeks turned a little pink and she quickly smiled again. "Would you like some lemonade? I just made it."

"Uh, sure."

They went out into the sunroom attached to the back of her house. The cottages in the neighborhood were rather historical, most if not all of them a unique layout and design. His was much older than hers, the little attachment off the back of his house designed more for outdoor use than as an extra room. He'd turned it into a gym, while hers was cozier, with wooden beams and a set of doors open to the little deck that stretched out, filled with flowers, a small bistro table set, and a yoga mat.

It was unseasonably warm; he wished winter would hurry up and come already. It was his preferred season. "Looks like you have enough lemons for a year's supply of lemonade," he commented, noting the tree stretching from Olenna's house into her yard and the little one she'd planted, which had been growing strong.

"I've always loved lemon trees. The house I spent the most time in as a child had one."

"And a red door," he whispered. He remembered she'd said that, once.

She straightened up, tossing her silver curls over her shoulder, her smile long and slow. She nodded; eyes downcast. "Yes...you remembered."

"I remember some things."

They shared another smile. She cleared her throat, looking down at the glass as she poured his lemonade. "I remember you grew up in the North."

"Not hard, my last name and all," he teased.

She retorted, "Aye."

He smiled in response. "Not bad. Still could use some work."

"I guess I will have to go up North and see."

"You've never been up North? In all your travels?" He shook his head, refusing to accept this information. "No good, we'll have to get you up there soon. Especially in winter, it’s just beautiful.”

Dany ducked her head, voice quiet. "Maybe you can take me."

His heart quickened. He stepped towards her, swallowing hard. Their eyes locked. He felt his pulse start racing and his mouth went dry. _She's so pretty._ It was the first thing he noticed about her. How effortlessly pretty she was. She didn't even try. Also she was so bloody nice. Jon had only really spent time around women who were kind of mean to him. Last girlfriend had been downright manipulative. He couldn't see Dany being like that at all. She went for what she wanted. Conquered, she'd joked with him once, about how she fought for things.

"Hello there!"

They both jumped, startled by Olenna's call out. He swallowed hard, lifting the lemonade up and gulping it down quickly. _Get a hold of yourself Snow._ Dany waved at her. "Hi Olenna, how are you?"

"I've got something for you. My peach tree doesn't know which season is what, dropped a bunch this morning."

"Oh my." Dany hopped off the deck, going over and taking the little basket of peaches Olenna handed her. She looked over at him, chuckling. "Guess I'll send you home with some of these peaches too."

He was about to say that he didn't really like peaches, but sure, when Olenna looked at him and then at Dany, her words crisp, her high-brow accent giving them just a touch of innocence. "He's got nice juicy peaches already, dear."

Dany choked and he almost dropped his glass. Olenna smiled wide, beaming at them both. He looked at Dany and then to Olenna, stuttering. "I should go...Ghost..."

"I'll see you later," Dany squeaked, clearly embarrassed.

Jon was embarrassed too, but he didn't know why exactly. He turned to leave, when he heard Olenna's laugh and her chastising words to Dany:

"My peach tree has nothing on his. Hmm, hmm."

 _Seven hells._ Jon ran off, making a note to never wear these jeans around Olenna ever again.

~/~/~/~

"What are you doing now?"

Olenna did not even turn to pay Davos any attention. You never swatted at bees when you were in your garden, they would go away eventually. She hummed to herself, the silly Lannister campaign song in her head. "And who are you the proud lord said...," she murmured, humming along.

"Olenna you have better hearing than a dog."

"Is that supposed to insult me?"

"I don't think anything could insult you."

No, she was pretty sure there wasn’t. She really didn't give a shit what anyone thought. It was why she had gotten where she had in life. She finished clipping some of the blue winter roses from the single bush she'd managed to tend, as the hard flower was notorious for dying south of the Neck. It was a rose bush she'd planted from seeds Jon Snow had brought her from one of his visits up to his family; she had plans for the damn thing, was glad she could finally use them.

She turned away, holding the roses in her hands, walking away towards the house. "I should get you a bell," she noted.

Davos followed after her. "Do those roses have anything to do with the ones that I keep seeing on Daenerys Targaryen's doorstep?"

"I haven't the faintest. Do you think she's stealing from me? Don't know why she'd lay them out in the open."

"Where are you going?"

Olenna walked across the yard to Jon Snow's house, where she heard the wolf fussing about at the gate. She didn't answer Davos, who had stopped hard in front of one of Jon's windows. He pointed. "This is a blue winter rose bush."

"Clever you are, yes those are blue roses, so that is a blue winter rose bush."

"And those are roses in your hand."

Olenna feigned shock. "You should run for Parliament!"

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and shaking his head when she flicked open the gate, letting Ghost trot out. She reached into her pocket and removed a couple of foul biscuits she'd picked up at the store, the animal scarfing them down and then taking the roses she'd placed in his mouth—thorns cut off of course. She wasn't a Lannister; she didn't hurt for sport. "Oh my gods you are mad," he mumbled.

She smirked, turning and walking away, patting the wolf, although he didn't need encouragement. he knew the drill. "Off you get."

"Mad. I'm calling your grandson."

"Which one? I have three, each one more useless than the last." She loved all her grandsons, but by gods they were fools, the lot of them.

"Does it matter?"

"Not really, Willas won't bother to leave the Reach, Garlan might come but only because he likes me, and Loras will only arrive to sniff after Jon Snow's peaches."

Davos frowned. "Jon Snow doesn't have peaches."

She arched her brows, smiling knowingly. "Oh but he does. Perfect round ones."

He shook his head, trying to figure her meaning. "Huh?"

"Forget it, look." They had stopped at her porch, in time to see Ghost-- such a smart dog he was, able to open the front gate of Dany's yard-- on the stoop, scratching at her door, holding the roses aloft.

It opened a moment later, Dany leaning down and laughing, collecting the roses from him. "Well thank you! These are lovely." She looked one way and the other, obviously searching for Jon.

Olenna timed it perfectly; she knew exactly how long the well-trained and behaved dog spent outside, as it seemed his owner did. When he didn't find him in the back, Jon walked out of the garage, looking around, in time to see Ghost making his way back down the sidewalk towards him. "One day i will figure out how you keep getting out," he chastised. Ghost ruffled his fur, tail swishing, offended.

"Hi Jon!" Dany called.

Jon waved at her, watching her a moment. He ducked his head and hurried back inside. Dany twirled one of the roses around in front of her nose, swaying slightly, and made a sound one could only call a _giggle_ and disappeared back into her house.

Olenna grinned. Davos stared at her. He was looking at her like she had four heads. She pursed her lips, scowling. "What?"

"You are diabolical. You should be Prime Minister."

"If I was Prime Minister, we wouldn't be in half the situations we are in." She paused. "Except I would have to follow the law, which would be difficult."

"Clearly." Davos looked at Dany's house and turned, looking to Jon's. He shook his head, tutting under his breath. His voice dropped, musing quietly. "She is good for him. He smiles now. he never smiled before." He side-eyed her. She pretended to fuss with the fuchsia hanging from the porch ceiling. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

"I have a sense of these things."

"More than a sense I think."

"Come off it Davos. Two beautiful, young, lonely people? They're meant for each other." She narrowed her eyes on him, shrewd. "What's he say to you?" There was only so much she could get from Dany, but she noticed the looks. That was enough for her.

Davos chuckled. "He says she has a good heart."

Olenna snorted. "Oh Davos, please."

"Please, what?"

She let go of the fuchsia, patting his shoulder on her way into the house. "That's not her heart he's looking at."

~/~/~/~

"Hey Olenna? Can I ask you something?"

Olenna popped onto her toes, eager to hear what Jon Snow needed from her. She tried not to let her emotions or curiosity show, schooling her face to a placid curiosity. "Of course dear, what can I help you with?" She noted he looked nervous; his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. She admired how they cut on his figure; he always wore pants that looked just one size too small. Even his military fatigues, which he sometimes sported for what she imagined was his reserve days, were sculpted nicely to his _peaches_.

He fumbled a bit and hopped the shortened part of the fence between their property. "Hmm," she murmured, watching the taut muscles of his arms bunch and flex with the movement. The weather had chilled significantly; winter was here, but while she wore a quilted jacket, he had on a thin cotton Henley, the top couple buttons undone. _My gods he is a fine man. No wonder Loras doesn't give up on him._ Or Margaery.

Jon licked his lips, chewing on the bottom one a moment. He was shy; almost too shy. "Could I have a favor?"

Never one to give a favor without knowing what it was, Olenna smiled politely. "What kind of favor would you like?"

"You have a bunch of flowers, can I get a bouquet, just a small one, maybe?"

Her lips twitched; she did not want to get her hopes up just quite yet. "A bouquet? For what exactly? Occasion is very important."

"Uh...a date."

"A date?" She chuckled, opening and closing her fingers around her pruning shears. He glanced at them, throat constricting, and met her gaze again. She merely smiled again. "Well this is news, what kind of women are you bringing to this neighborhood? I should know, I am the queen of the street, yes?"

"Ah, well she's already here."

"Oh?" _YES_ , she screamed inwardly. She bat her eyelashes. "Who would that be?"

The adorable blush on his cheeks was all she needed to confirm. "Daenerys," he mumbled.

She grinned, unable to help herself, and show her cards. She patted his arm, only taking a lightly squeeze of the muscle for her own enjoyment. She was happy enough. "I'll bring you the biggest bouquet I can make."

"Lilies," he blurted.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you have any red dragon lilies?" He smiled, that dopey, shy little smile, his gray eyes crinkling. He whispered, "They're her favorite."

The flower was a rare one, from outside of the ruins of Valyria. It was hard to grow, unless you happened to have a state-of-the-art conservatory, like she did. She walked with him towards the house, looping her arm into his. "I think I have a few I can spare."

Once she'd cut, clipped, pruned, and designed the bouquet-- red dragon lilies prominently displayed with some blue winter roses, a bit of lady's lace, and some black rosewood blooms, she sent him off. She gave him some time, waited a bit, and around seven, she trotted over to Davos's house, banging on the door with both fists, unable to stop herself.

The door pulled back, Davos shoving his glasses on, brow knit in concern. "What the bloody seven hells? You dying?"

"Not today."

"Thank gods Marya is with Mattos, she'd have had a heart attack. What do you want?"

"They're on a date," she announced.

He scowled. "How do you know?" He peered around her, pushing his glasses further on his nose, like he was seeing double. She turned around, in time to see Jon walking from his house over to Dany's, holding the bouquet she'd made him earlier tight in his hands. "Good gods."

"Yes. He cleans up nicely."

He wore an all-black ensemble, which she supposed would have to do, but that boy needed some color in his life. It seemed the color appeared momentarily, Daenerys stepping out of her house wearing a bright red dress, with a matching coat. Her silver hair twisted from her face in her trademark braids, she had also placed a shimmering silver clip in them-- dragons of course.

They both spoke, heads bent together, and Dany sniffed the flowers. "Did her foot just pop up?" Davos marveled.

"Hmm, seems so." Olenna wished she had her phone with her; she should film this. For research purposes of course.

They went into her house. She checked her watch, wondering if she should make a bet on them even bothering to come out. To her disappointment, they exited, this time without the flowers. Jon led her down the street to his car. He looked over and lifted his hand, waving at them. Dany peered around him, waving as well.

She wiggled her fingers, cooing. "Have a good evening!"

They got into Jon's car— he held the door for her, such a gentleman—driving away. Olenna grinned, smug. She spun on Davos, silently gloating. He shook his head, stunned. "You crafty witch."

"Davos, I will let you in on a secret." She laughed. "I have outlived all the men in my life, I have run off shitty neighbors, held the Queen of Thorns title at my garden club for the last fifteen years running, and each one of my grandchildren know when to bother me and when to stay out of my way. I may have been in this world almost eighty years, but that doesn't mean my mind has." She walked back towards her house, hands in her pockets. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

~/~/~/~

"Honestly why do I tip him like I do?" Davos grumbled, separating the two newspapers bunched up together at the end of his driveway. He was one of only ones left in the world who probably read a morning paper, preferring the act of sipping his coffee and turning the pages as opposed to staring at his phone screen.

It looked as though Jon's paper— that boy was born fifty years later than his soul apparently—had made the journey over with his. He rolled up his copy, shoving it into the end of his mailbox, and carefully folded Jon's, hoping he hadn't lost most of the pages. He crossed the street, intending to place it on Jon's doorstep, when the door opened, and to his surprise, it wasn't Jon who stepped out.

"Oh!"

He blinked, surprised as well, lifting his fingers automatically to wave at Dany, who was shrugging on a black men's dress shirt over her red dress, holding her heels in her hands. He glanced at her feet; they were bare, even in the cold. "Uh," he lifted the paper. "Dropping this off. Got it mixed with mine."

Dany swallowed hard, gesturing toward the house. "I was helping Jon," she blurted. She laughed, kind of high-pitched. "His um, he...he wanted to discuss...decorations."

 _She's more awkward than him, I had no idea._ "Decorations?" he echoed.

"Yes, for the holidays. They're coming up. he wanted to make sure we didn't clash." She licked her tongue over her teeth, nodding. Davos wasn't sure she could possibly believe what she was saying, but she did. She lifted her brows, voice squeaking. "I'll see you later Davos."

"Hmm, have a good morning."

Davos watched her scurry away, tugging down the hem of her dress; he noted that it appeared torn a bit. He shook his head and sighed, walking determinedly to Olenna's. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He knocked hard on her doorframe, hitting the bell with his fist. A minute later she opened it, already dressed. He was still wearing his flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt. This woman must not sleep, he mused. She scowled. "You’re early."

"I cannot believe you led me on this crazy journey, but do you want to know who did not spend the night in their house?" He was gossiping like an old maid.

Olenna released a sound one could only describe as a _whoop_ , but she was probably too dignified for that. She grabbed hold of his arm yanking him into the house. "Which one? Was it her?"

"How'd you know?"

"I know these things, besides, his car was in the drive last night, if they went to her house he'd have parked there. They wouldn't have bothered walking and the dog would need let out." She poured him a mug of coffee. "Here. We don't have much time. Did she see you?"

"Ran right into her, was dropping off his paper." Davos looked at his hand, which still held the damn thing. He shook his head. "She was flustered."

"Obviously." Olenna looked at the slim silver wristwatch dangling from her left wrist. She tutted. "Quick, let's take a look."

"Look at what?"

"Well if she saw you, she'd give him a head's up. He's not going to run straight across the yard, might think you're still watching." Olenna went out to her conservatory, sipping her coffee and studying the fence line. She murmured. "Soon enough."

Davos had no idea what was happening. He sipped his coffee, surprised at how good it tasted. He smacked his lips. "This isn't bad, it isn't Seasnake's is it?"

"That overpriced swill? No it's from Volantis, quality cacao bean. Now shush."

He had no idea what they were waiting for, until he saw it. "I'll be damned."

Jon Snow had just thrown a duffel bag over the side of the fence into Olenna's yard. A moment later Ghost came tumbling over, the dog taking off and easily bounding into Dany's yard. A second later the human followed, wearing black sweats and a hooded sweatshirt with Night's Watch stamped on it. He looked around, making sure no one was there, and sprinted across the garden, darting easily around the hedges and boxes. At the low fence with Dany's yard, he barely moved to get over it and then jogged up to the doors, where Dany was waiting. She'd changed out of her red dress and was now just waring his black dress shirt.

They said something, laughed, and Davos's mouth dropped when suddenly they embraced. Olenna hummed appreciatively. "It's like he's devouring her," she observed.

Davos gulped his coffee, not even noticing it burn his throat. "Seven hells."

After they kissed, they laughed about something, and tripped into Dany's house. They didn't even get up, probably just lying there on the other side of the door. Jon's bag sat outside, untouched. There was a flash of silver hair and Jon's hoodie sailed somewhere over to the side of the room, and then they were gone, disappearing into the house.  
He sighed. "Bloody idiots."

Olenna sipped her coffee, pinkie finger lifted from her cup, content. "My work is done."

**fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanted to know...
> 
> Seasnake's= Starbucks (Starbuck is the name of the First Mate in Moby Dick, so I thought who was the biggest sailor in ASOIAF and it's Corlys Velaryon, the Seasnake, ergo instead of Starbucks coffee, it's Seasnake's Coffee)  
> Hrazef= Uber (Hrazef in Dothraki means 'horse', lol)


End file.
